Infatuation
by heterogeneous-girl
Summary: It's a burden and an enjoyment all at the same time, how confusing. Loliver!


**A/N **Inspired by Lovefool by The Cardigans. I hope you like this fic; it's sort of my little "comeback". (:

**Infatuation**

I'm lying on my bed, my head resting on my forearm. I gaze dreamily at the ceiling, daydreaming. This is what has been consuming most of my time lately; daydreaming. I'm a huge dreamer; that everybody knows. But what they don't know is what I'm dreaming of, and they can't. It's too embarrassing, because I daydream of you. Of _us_. Sometimes I imagine that we're all grown up, ten years down the road, and we're at the altar, ready to be man and wife, sometimes about how our children are going to look like, or how a perfect date would go. Other times, I daydream about how I would like to make my feelings known to you.

I often wonder what would be the best way of professing my love for you. I think of suddenly grabbing you and kissing you full on the lips. I imagine that your lips would taste heavenly – soft, and molded just for mine. When I imagine how our lips would move in perfect synchronization, I'm suddenly hyper-aware of the blood zinging through my fingertips, tickling my face as sudden warmth engulfed me, making me radiate the aura of a lovesick schoolgirl. But what if you didn't feel the same way? You probably don't. You're too kind, too beautiful, too amazing, too perfect. At this thought, my heart automatically slows, until it almost stops, as if not wanting to carry on beating if you didn't love me back, because it beat only for you.

I tear my eyes away from the ceiling, depressed after comparing me to you. How could you ever love me? You're smart, funny and completely understanding, whereas I'm lame and silly. But then again, we've been best friends since day one, so that has to count for something, right?

I feel stupid, arguing with myself, debating whether you would love me back in _that_ way or not, because I know that I would only get more confused. I would only be more frustrated with myself. I felt mentally incompetent, and totally useless. This I blame on you. How could one person possibly make another person feel so ecstatic, light, vibrant, hopeful, and depressed, angry, emotional and annoyed all at the same time? I guess this is one of the down sides of having a huge secret. A stray thought in my mind wondered if this was how Miley felt whenever she had an urge to reveal her Hannah secret.

I can't pinpoint when exactly I started falling helplessly in love with you. I think it was in between when you were there to cheer me up after a breakup or a failed test, when you hung out with me and made me laugh all the time, when you and I grew up together, therefore making you completely etched into every single memory I have, and growing completely attached and reliant on you. You're like a drug. You make me jubilant, intoxicated, and addicted.

I feel like such a pansy ass. Here I am, being poetic about you like a huge wuss. It's at times like this that I disgust myself. I start this little internal drabble and debate that goes around in circles and ends with me feeling completely useless and irritated. If I told you how I felt, I knew what you would do. You'd throw an arm around my waist and squeeze me a little bit, while convincing me that I should just go confess my feelings and get it all off my chest, because if it didn't work out, you'd still be there for me. But the problem is, I'm confessing my feelings for you. If it doesn't work out, you won't be able to be there for me to fall back on.

I turn around, burying my face into my bedspread, hoping that it will somehow suffocate me, bringing with it some kind of release from this torment that is infatuation. I don't care anymore, I just need to see your face right now, knowing that it would at least serve as a temporary remedy to my twisted, mangled heart.

I get up from my bed, and head for my door, only to find you at my door. I feel a heavy weight being relieved from my chest as I see you. The way the evening Malibu glow assentuates your legs – perfectly shaped and smooth, I'm sure, despite the many scars you have from skateboarding – makes my throat a little dry. The blazing orange caresses your blonde locks, making them positively golden. My eyes are inevitably drawn to your face, your flawless, beautiful face, expecting it to reflect your default boisterous and rebellious mood. However, your face is slightly unsure, pensive, deep in thought about something. Your pale blue eyes are glued to the carpeted floor, your forehead is pinched slightly, your cute little nose is wrinkled and your cherry lips are pursed.

"What's wrong, Lily?" I ask, immediately worried about you, my heart picking up speed.

"Oliver, I have a problem," you say. Your lips move, but the rest of your face stays the same. My heart aches a little for you. What could possibly make you so upset? I hate it already, whatever it is.

I guide you to my bed, expecting you to go off like a machine gun, rattaling to me about your delimma. But instead, you hang your head low and keep silent. "Well go on," I encouraged you from beside you on my bed.

"You see. Well, I, um. I like this guy, and um. I think that…I mean…Oh, I don't know what to think!" You pout. My heart is shattered and I feel like puking. I feel so insignificant, so inferior, so angry with myself.

But other than the self-centered loathing I directed towards myself as a result of my own egoism, I felt horrible for Lily. She shouldn't have to feel so perplexed because of some measly guy. I longed to just grab her and kiss it all away, cradling her in my arms. As my mind dwelled on this, some animalistic creature burst out of its shell within me and took control over me. Suddenly, all I could think about, feel, want and need was Lily. I didn't care about some guy that she liked. I didn't care that my feelings weren't reciprocrated. I didn't care that she could possibly hate me after this, and that I was putting sixteen years of friendship on the line. I couldn't think straight anymore, and there was this little ringing in my ears. All I could focus on was Lily, and how much I loved her. More than my own life, more than myself, more than anything put together and multiplied by a billion. I instinctively knew that this was my moment. If I didn't act now, I might now have another moment like this, and I might live to regret it. I might go on with my life, miserable and just longing that I had utilized the perfection of this one moment.

So I wrapped my arms around Lily and pressed my lips against hers.

I could feel her eyes opened wide in shock, her hands straight at her sides and her whole body stiffen. In the middle of this, I regained perspective and realized how ridiculous and appalling I was acting. I started to pull away from her lips, my hands pushing away from her sides when she grabbed a bunch of my hair in her hands and pushed my lips back onto hers. My tongue slipped out of my mouth and toyed with her bottom lip, asking for entrance. Knowing what I wanted, she parted her perfect double-curve lips. I suspect that then, the pleasure centre of my brain went into overdrive then, because all I could feel was euphoria. Euphoria that the love of my life loved me back, euphoria that I was smart enough to recognize this moment and take the plunge, euphoria that I need not carry the burden of a secret infatuation anymore.

In desperate need of air, we both pulled apart. However, she still kept her hands that now slipped to my neck on me and I continued encircling her waist, our foreheads touching.

"By the way," Lily says. "The guy I was referring to was you."

At this, a genuine smile stretched across my face as my breath came out as one gush of air across Lily's face. I beamed with pride and pure bliss as I tilted her chin up with my forefinger and kissed her all over again.

**A/N **Aww, super cheesy Loliver fluff! Hope I didn't gross too many people out there, lol. That's it, I hope you liked it :D I'm working on a long chapter story; hopefully it can be out soon!


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